


Moments to Live

by Findarato



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content, Smut, almost pwp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 05:23:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3369404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Findarato/pseuds/Findarato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuff that didn't make it into <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2842775">Ikiro.</a><br/>1. Prompt: "Laughing during sex" and “You’re only allowed to sit and watch until I tell you otherwise.”<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Moments to Live

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I didn’t create Hakuouki, and neither am I Kazuki Yone.  
>  **Spoilers:** Fits into the mess that is my other Saitou/Souji fic.  
>  **Warnings:** Smut fff this is more gratuitous than my usual stuff.
> 
> A/N: I don't remember the last time I wrote something this PWP. And even so, this turned into five pages. Self, you really need to work on that. This is Saitou/Souji because hell, I might as well start on the stuff that didn’t make it into Ikiro. This is in Saitou’s POV.

**.**

Sleeping with Souji is…candid. Saitou wouldn't call it "no strings attached," or even a casual on-off fling. But they said no vows or made overt promises in life to be committed. They didn't even exactly do proposals. Literally all Saitou did was kiss Souji, and here they are.

Saitou does not consider himself someone that sleeps around. Sex for the sake of sex is definitely pleasant. He won't disagree. But it's not pleasure he's after. It's not secret flings. He does not fall in love easily, and hardly believes in love at first sight. He sleeps with Souji because it benefits the both of them. So he doesn't really think about the mechanics.

That's not to say they met, fucked, and parted. They're not flinging themselves at each other like animals. It's not mindless.

When it comes down to the basics, they're just very sensible about this sort of thing.

Today, Souji runs his fingers through Saitou's hair while the other maintains Souji's katana. Despite a lack of a use, swords still required care.

…there's so many metaphors in that thought.

"Hajime-kun~"

"Yes?"

"What day is it today?"

"Wednesday."

"It felt more like a Friday."

Fingers trace the base of his skull and his neck and he nearly shivers; discipline will keep him at his work until he's finished. Sometimes their conversations went nowhere. Souji has out-of-place thoughts that run paths; Saitou sometimes chases them, or lets them go. "Why do you say that?"

"You usually visit on Fridays."

"I try to avoid changing my schedule if possible." He offers no excuse; they both know there's a war going on.

"You don't have to visit every week."

Saitou sheathes the katana with a sharp click. He runs his hand down the length of the _saya_ ; there little nicks and some scratches, but it's well taken-care of. In contrast, Souji's face has grown thinner and the lines where bones lie underneath skin are sharper than ever.

"Souji."

"Mhm?"

The hand stops.

"Do you want me to bring you anything next week?"

"What's happening next week?"

"Nothing."

"Are you asking about food or something else?"

"Anything."

"Konpeito, then."

 _That's hardly healthy_. He swallows the words and nods. "I will bring some next week."

"You could always send them instead of having to come all this way."

Saitou turns, and Souji's hand falls away. "Do you not want me to?"

Sometimes they do get a little direct. Souji likes dropping hints, but even his hints are ambiguous at times. It's Souji's nature, and Saitou doesn't question it, but occasionally it is hard to keep up with.

"You always ask me about my wants, but what about you?"

He shifts his body until they're facing one another—Souji, leaning on his side and head propped up by his hand, and Saitou, legs crossed and back straight.

"I do not mind it."

"It's not a short journey."

He lifts a shoulder.

"…have it your way, then." Souji crosses his arms and flops on to his back. His clothes shift and Saitou finds it a relief there are no more bandages, finally.

But it hardly means he's better. They do know their own bodies, after all.

_Are you telling me to stay away, because this is about your eminent death?_

They knew this when they first began their…relationship. Why bring it up? Annoyance shoots through his senses and he closes his mouth to hide it. However, it dissipates just as quickly as it arrived.

He finds himself leaning closer, over Souji. The other merely looks up, one eyebrow raised.

"You are saying I can have it my way?" Deliberately.

"Mm, your way." Smugly.

Hand pressed to the floor, he leans down next to Souji's ear and breathes. As the other jerks away, he whispers. "Then, you're only allowed to watch until I tell you otherwise."

"Heh~ is that how it is?"

Saitou's reply is to lick his ear and pull away. "That's how it is." He loosens his jacket, jacket, and shirt and folds them away, placing them where he's already put his gloves. He rolls his shoulders—those clothes were always a little tight—and then he brushes at Souji's yukata, flicking at the loose openings.

"I can undress myself, Hajime-kun."

"I said you're only allowed to watch." Deadpan is his best ability next to fighting.

Souji's gaze flickers as he covers his mouth to hide his amusement. "Is this because you think I do so little sometimes?"

Maybe. But Saitou won't give him the satisfaction of hearing him say that out loud. He instead kisses until he can hear his own pulse thrumming in his ears and feel Souji's underneath his hands. He likes seeing Souji like this—alive, aware, and eyes almost glowing. If not for what he said earlier, Souji would've long ago reached out to touch him.

Today is his to seize.

He unfastens their belts and the rest of their clothing is quick work to remove. Souji runs his gaze up and down in exaggerated moments, the look in his eyes saying "you did say I'm allowed to watch."

And he'll make him watch. He makes him watch as he licks his own palm and drags it down the planes of his body. He makes him watch as he slides that hand in slow sweeping motions that are painstakingly slow and if not for endurance, this would make the tables turn. He knows himself well enough to time all of this. He could be done in seconds or a few hours, depending on the circumstances.

Saitou does his own watching, too. Souji worries his lip, chews on the inside of his mouth. Sweat drips down one cheek. And unconsciously, the muscles of his abdomen are taut, moving with every little jump of his hips. When Saitou sighs, Souji sighs with him.

He does not touch him. Not yet. First he touches only himself, letting his fingernails trail and dig. He looms over Souji, who looks as if he wants to reach out his hands, but he keeps them closed in tight, tight fists underneath his head. Muscles stand out in his neck, and Saitou feels a knee drift up to press against the inside of his thigh.

They don't play the game of begging. Some liked it, some indulged in it. Saitou's not a stranger to it. But between them, it was more of watching and waiting, for the right moments. Unless Souji wants to be miserable, unless he wants to plead, Saitou will not implement such. It would be easy, of course. They had the ability to make others cease movement with the right look or tone of voice. Rarely, however, do they use it on one another.

So he finally touches him. Insistently. Souji has little patience for light fleeting touches for the most part and he likes it when teeth graze his skin or when Saitou presses his body into his, their bones feeling like they've interlocked but clashing at the same time. His hips leave imprints in Saitou's hands, always, and so do his knees. However, he still keeps his hands away, locked in fists.

"…Souji."

" _Aa?_ " More breathless than usual, but no wheezing as far as Saitou can tell.

"You'll make yourself bleed."

"Oh." Souji opens his hands; red marks are deep in his palms. "No, I won't."

"You can—"

"You're taking back what you said earlier? That's a surprise."

Saitou shuts his mouth and shakes his head.

"I don't mind it. This was going somewhere interesting."

Interesting isn't the word he would use. But Souji cranes his head up, and brushes his lips over Saitou's cheek.

"Besides, I want to prove I can keep my hands to myself."

That kiss was oddly touching, and Saitou allows himself one moment of confusion before he rises to the challenge.

"Very well. I'll continue."

"Hajime-kun never disappoints~"

Oh, he's sure he's disappointed himself and various people at various times…Souji really is awful at keeping his mind on one thing. Saitou grazes his collarbone for that, then his ribs, and then a hipbone. And then he entirely skips over an area to stroke thighs and calves all the while ignoring whatever nice views are in front of him and Souji's pointed look.

"What?" he feels has to ask.

"Next time…I'll give you a lot to think about."

It was never a question about whether or not Souji wants him here, was it.

He rests his chin on a raised knee. Sometimes, this did get difficult when he thinks more about needs and wants and about something more emotional. And then he closes the door on it and bends slower, to draw out moans and the mangling of his name that makes him shiver.

This is still easier. It's easier for them to do this than consider possibilities that normal people did. It's easy even when Souji withholds himself still, even when Saitou eases himself down and there's the moment of pain before he can open his eyes and Souji looks as if he wants to pull Saitou down against him. They're not made for each other and no stars aligned for them. But no fate needs to tell them that they understand and empathise with each other and that's what keeps this from being too messy. As straightforward as they are with each other, this one thing they will keep out of their mouths and (mostly) out of their touches.

Saitou reaches for Souji's hands, prying the death grip apart. However, he does not move when Saitou tries to pull them down.

"Isn't it uncomfortable?"

Souji rolls his eyes. "Maybe you should have considered it before telling me I can't do anything but watch."

His response to nudge Souji's shoulder with his head until the other laughs and his tongue darts out to flick over Saitou's nose.

"I'm joking, Hajime-kun. I don't mind you holding me like this."

Being frank sometimes does have its downsides—his ears and cheeks give that away. But they toss control back and forth so easily it doesn't even matter to them who's actually doing it right now.

Saitou does know several things—Souji, and Souji only, can make his name sound unrighteous. He can press toes to Saitou's spine, somehow, and dig them against his skin, cold soles and all. And only he can make a whispered gasp sound louder than any false scream. But as for himself—Saitou can hold. He can wait. He is capable of setting a pace so slow that near kills them both even as his expression tightens and his neck hurts and they are biting their tongues.

Souji's hands are tight against his, his face concentrated and distracted at the same time. "Ne." The word steals out, like a sharp exhale. "You can hold me like this, but…you could at least go faster? Or are you trying to finish last?"

His shoulders twitch.

"You _are_ , aren't you. How devious of you, Hajime-kun."

It almost seems perverse that Souji still leaves the "kun" intact. "Not as devious as you."

"Eh? I'm innocent this time, though."

"No, you're not."

"Really?" Souji's voice adopts that weird lilt he uses when he's arguing without real ire, and then he suddenly yanks away and seizes Saitou's face in his face. "Just pick up the speed and I won't argue with you, all right?"

He somehow nods. Souji's fingers slip and end up on Saitou's hips, and without thinking he puts his hands over them, keeping them there. He doesn't remember if they always did this, or if Souji likes their hands together, but before he can think too much, they fall down dizzying heights at nearly the same time, with reddened skin and shaking limbs, pants for air heavy and slow in juxtapose to their hearts.

Saitou pries his hands away and slips down next to Souji, who is staring upwards as his chest heaves. Out of habit, he listens again, but there are still no coughs.

It's an unexpectedly painless day.

"My fingers are cramping."

He looks over; Souji is flexing his fingers.

"It's like the first time I picked up a bokken."

"…You're not comparing my hipbones to wood, are you." The words slip out before he processes them, uncharacteristically so.

Souji bursts out in laughter as he reaches over to pat Saitou's side. "No, you're still softer. But for a sword…for us…we fit each other well."

He says nothing about those words being unlike Saitou as he traces a few little circles with his finger before lying back.

_We fit each other well._

Too well at times. He swallows harshly and shifts to bump their shoulders together. "When will you return, Souji?"

The mirth disappeared instantly, as if Saitou's words had been a gust of wind snuffing out a candle. "My injuries are healed. But I get a little tired in the afternoons. And mornings make me feel like killing butterflies that fly outside my door."

Souji tucks his hands in between the space of their bodies. "I'll join soon," he continues, as if he didn't just list his reasons for being unable to return. "You're all bored with me, aren't you. Especially Hijikata-san. And without Shinpatsuan and Sano-san, Heisuke probably forgot what it's like to have people hitting him over the head every few hours…"

He talks on and Saitou merely listens, with only a few interjections. Somehow the talk meanders to Souji's clothes and he complains that Hijikata got all his measurements wrong on purpose, but at least he likes the colours and designs. Saitou personally thinks it fits just fine even though he's only seen Souji wear them once, so that he could help him with the buttons.

By the time Souji falls asleep mid-sentence, he's not even sure what they're on, but they've always been like this. Even before they slept together. They did share a room for a good two years and Saitou got used to falling asleep to the nonsensical. It was just with less touching than they did now.

He doesn't know if they're actually good for each other, but they still tried to do good to each other, at least. And he finds that comforting in its own way. After all that's been taken away from them, especially Souji, life better allow them this, for just a little longer.

**.**


End file.
